


RoyEd Forever

by charmed4fiction



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Adult Content, Adult Language, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modern Era, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:07:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6586525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed4fiction/pseuds/charmed4fiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU</p>
<p>Edward reflects on selfies and social media platforms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	RoyEd Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks you speedfanatic05 for being awesome and editing the story.
> 
> Enjoy!

Ed loathed selfies. He failed to see how someone can take photos of their face, promptly upload to a social media platform and then proceed to take the same photo for the next hundred snaps. The narcissism was mind-boggling; so preoccupied with taking the perfect picture, that barely noted the subtle change in their facial expression. Ed failed to see the appeal, despite taking one or two himself. On those rare occasions, there was usually no one around to snap the photo, and he always used a camera.

Why was he thinking about selfies anyway?

Oh, right, he remembered now.

He’d been caught in one that had been uploaded to Twitter and within a few hours it started trending worldwide and stayed that way for days afterward. It had gotten so bad that the photo essentially broke the Internet. He couldn't be bothered, though; it wasn't his fault that millions of people had nothing better to than stalk Twitter down to the very second.

It wasn't like he despised all social media sites; some of them had their merits while he wasn't especially keen about Facebook, Twitter was tolerable. He’d only established an account for work and didn't waste time and effort in crafting this elaborate persona. It was strictly for PR, made only for the purpose of bringing him closer to his fans— or some shit like that. It wasn't like he need another set of groupies shadowing his every move yet he knew he needed to keep his fans satisfied— it was about them, after all. The exposure was insane, but he wished it wasn't at the expense of his peace of mind.

He couldn't argue against the number, though. Within a day, the new account had over two hundred thousand followers, which quickly ballooned to roughly 5 million. Peace or satisfying the masses, it was a quandary that he could do without if he were honest with himself.

Like, seriously, didn't people have better things to do rather than staring at a screen every five seconds?

Life was about adventures, exploring, and living each second to the fullest— not retweets, fanfare, declarations of love, or toxic hate. He knew that some accounts spewed the noxious fumes of animosity and was pleased that his PR team was proactive in keeping such drivel away. He hadn't been entirely unaware, of course. He’s overheard Alphonse whispering about the offending tweets to his significant other. Ed never let it get him down; word of mouth or written, they were just that—words.

That wasn't to say that he wasn't invested in keeping up with his fans. The account was over a year old now, and Ed was surprised at just how much love he got. He made sure to check it a few times a week if the time warranted. Ed had enjoyed the interaction with his fans and was astounded at their levels of creativity. He has been particularly fond of the fanart and the occasional gif sets of him ripping it up on stage. That was pretty humorous, though; he was only doing what came naturally to him and yet millions of people spend their time crafting something they were passionate about that just happened to be solely about him.

So, yeah, Twitter was one site he liked, and his PR team had gotten something right. Fuck him but he sometimes did an AskEd session where he spends a full hour answering questions like What’s your favorite ice cream? What made you choose this career? When are you getting married? He also retweeted some of the tweets that his followers sent him. One follower, @lanfan_hansolo, he thought, said that he’d turned her life around and that she was a genuine fan for life who respected his art. He admired the hell out of people like that.

One social media account wasn't enough, though. Just because Al had a Tumblr blog, his team wanted him to create one. In so many words, he’d told them to fuck off; Twitter was the one and only social media platform he would commit to. Besides, he’d gotten enough entertainment off Al’s obsession with cats; silly cat vines, memes, gifs, and plenty of funny and sometimes cute cat inspirations met his quota for the mundane.

Of course, just because he hadn't created an official Tumblr account didn’t mean that they didn’t exist. Al had shown him a couple of Tumblr blogs solely devoted to him and before he’s known it, he’s spent an entire afternoon going through each of their blogs. Curious about the topic, he happened upon a hashtag ‘RoyEd’.

“What the hell is ‘OTP’; ‘I totally ship them’; ‘they are perfect together’ mean?”

“It’s the name they came up with for you and Roy.”

At that Edward had promptly lost his balance, pitching forward in the chair and hitting the floor with an agonizing thump. Then Ed had turned in time to see Al stretch his arm out to catch the falling tablet, his face a mixture of torment and horror. Sometimes, he believed his little brother loved his tech more than him.

After consoling Al and promising to get the Amazon Echo he’d been blatantly hinting that needed, Ed reclaimed his seat and asked Al to explain this shipping business. Al had eagerly articulated the details like a preteen gossiping to her best friends, belying the fact that he was one of those who would ‘go down with this ship.' Ed could do nothing but shake his head at his little brother’s shy smile.

Apparently, this obsession was a facet of pop culture, one that he didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t like he and Roy were TV characters or actor playing a role in a movie, though he could see where the shipping and fan frenzy could exploit those genres. Hell, even him and Al had delved into cosplay once and attended the biggest Con there was— San Diego Comic Con. Ed had taken the plunge and dressed as Iron Man and Al had adorned himself as Naruto. It was fun but was the furthest Ed would take it. However, he could see how easy it was some to segue into the fantasy, to get away from the grind of their lives. Al explained this idea further, comparing it to when Ed became fanatic over a book and his desire to connect with others to analyze, to find like minds.

“Come to think of it; it’s much like how you feel about your music, Ed.”

Ed snapped out of it and exhaled. Music was manna, his desire, his life. His undaunted passion and hard work had vaulted into the stratosphere among the best DJ’s like Hardwell, Avicii, Afrojack, Tiesto and The Chainsmokers. He fucking lived his life on stage. It was on such a stage during the Ultra Music Festival in Miami a couple of weeks ago that had started it all. His significant other, Roy Mustang was touring with him, a feat that had been near impossible in the past due to his insane schedule. Roy, his beautiful bastard, was a model, and he was in high demand. It didn’t hurt that he was a sexy fucker. His smoldering midnight blue eyes and disheveled inky black hair couple with his devil may care smirk and body to die for easily became fodder for women and men alike. He effortlessly commanded attention when he walked in a room which made spending time with him that much more challenging. On that stage, however, Ed held court.

Ed did his thing, headlining each night, an achievement in its right. Shit like that never happened because of the sheer amount of artists — but Ed had fucking owned that stage, luring the denizens of the night with his hypnotic beats. Ed had caught that buzz, fueled the feverish energy that seemed to grow by the second.

It was then he’d spied him at the opposite end of the stage. As the energy ebbed and flowed, Ed became exponentially aware of boyfriend— no his lover — as his body writhed with abandon, completely lost in the rhythm. It reminded him of the moments when they were alone when there was nothing but the sound of their breathing between them. Their eyes met, and the connection was immediate; Ed felt the electric pulse of their fiery attraction funneled through him, and he winked suggestively, hoping that Mustang caught the message. Ed briefly caught the glint in Roy’s eyes as he refocused, determined to make it through the set so that he could spend the rest of night fucking the living daylights out of his Mustang.

The arena and exploded as the frenzy crested and Ed glanced over to see Roy approaching. Ed reached out his hand, and Roy took it, pulling him into his orbit. It was then that Roy planted a salacious kiss on his lips, plunging the crowd into maddening chaos. Ed hadn’t noticed the millions of flashes from the cellphones or the wild screams as they drank in the sight of the embrace. It was just the two of them at that moment— hell, Miami could burn to the ground, and he wouldn’t give a shit. Ed had to take a deep breath as he continued to spin, the incessant base line and the kinetic atmosphere working as a strange, heady aphrodisiac.

Lulled by the astronomical kiss and the vision of Roy’s tight ass in the fucking jeans, Ed had been thunderstruck, too distracted to focus as Roy’s lips brushed against his ear as he held his phone aloft, taking the picture quickly.

“I can’t wait to ravish you later,” he had whispered seductively.

That had done it; seizing the moment, Ed pulled Roy closer and captured his lips in a bruising kiss, a promise of sorts for what was to come. The crowd had reached the levels of hysteria as Ed continued, noticing his PR manager, Ling Yao, snatching the phone out of Roy’s hand and returning to Al’s side of the stage. He didn’t think anything of two of them conferring with each other over said cellphone as he pushed through the final round of his set. One thing he did know was that their machinations always came with a hefty price.

He just hoped that price wasn’t too steep.

The performance had been a killer, but it didn't hold a candle to what happened afterward. Roy, the beautiful bastard that he was, had taken him multiple times; each time carrying him to dizzying heights all before the ecstasy until he was completely drained. When his head had hit the soft pillows, he settled beneath the blanket, his weary sigh filling the silence. Roy’s warm embrace enveloped him in a tranquility and comfort, making it that much more of a nuisance when his lover decided that it was the right time to check his Twitter account.

“C’mon, bastard, I just want to sleep,” Ed whined. Apparently, that was code fuck with me more; Roy promptly pulled Ed impossible closer, his lips caressing the shell of his ear softly. As much as he enjoyed Roy’s ministrations, he would have much rather been on his way to dreamland instead of checking some goddamned account he could give two fucks about at the moment.

Angrily, he snatched his phone that was charging, yanking the cord out of the socket. Falling back into Roy's arms, pressed the home button and keyed in his password. The phone came to life as the notifications began and kept going. Ed quickly hit up Twitter as Roy's chin rested on top of his head, peeking over to look at the screen.

Staring back at them was the picture Roy snapped. They were together behind his mixer while Al's fucking impressive visual effects illuminated the background. Their lips were locked in that astronomical kiss that Ed could swear he'd still felt on his lips. That would explain why he didn't particularly remember Roy snapping the photo.

"Fucking hot," Roy whispered beneath his hair. Transfixed by the picture, Ed nodded. Roy tilted his head upward and kissed his forehead. "I know what you're thinking, but it was Al and Ling who posted the photo. I had nothing to do with it at all. I was only a willing participant — in the kiss.”

"Yeah…that kiss was…spectacular." Ed watched as a dubious expression drifted over Roy's face and amended quickly, "You were awesome. Of course, you know that, right?" Ed refocused and opened up the comments.

That was his first mistake.

To say that people were going fucking wild was an understatement, which could probably be directly attributed to the caption:

'Taming the Flames #RoyEd #ULTRALIVE #Ultra2016 #Fullmetal.’

Ed skimmed the comments and read them aloud, "They are my heroes #rainbowpower #royed #otpforlife; I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY KISSED!!! I'M A SINKING SHIP! BYE WORLD MY OTP WILL LIVE ON; #fullmetal OMG OMG, he's a master and his boyfriend is so HOTT!!! #ultralive2016.”

Apparently, it had taken only one picture to spin the world off its axis.

Mistake number two had been retweeting some stuff that Ling and some of the other artists from Live Set tagged him in. That set off a chain reaction; when others noticed that he was online, his notifications went into a frenzy. Before he could even fathom going any further, Roy had taken the phone away and tossed it aside, reminding him that he was tired, and they could deal with the inevitable fallout the next day.

By the way, the response to that photo was still stimulating the fucking masses. Edward would've thought that the furor would've blown over by now but it seemed as if people were not nearly satisfied enough. It was fucked up how people salivated over even the simplest things like his face splashed over the trades and the television. All this attention kept that beast fed.

Ed had lived most of his life in the glare of the spotlight and with Roy by his side, the intensity had increased. Now, there were more phone calls, requests for appearances, for him to show the world more. He hadn't minded the attention before, especially since he and Roy lived in Paris for most of the year, but with the incident—as he called it—it seemed that they were in high demand even more.

This was why Edward was waiting for some self-important photographer in their SoHo apartment instead of taking the day for himself. That damned photo stunt had sparked the flame, and suddenly the editor from Vogue was calling on Roy to take part in a campaign chronicling photos that could change the world.

Naturally, Roy did not refuse.

Roy was incapable of telling anyone no, much to Ed's chagrin-oh and he wasn't going to turn away the chance to change the world. Roy was a humanitarian at heart, always dragging Ed around to every charity event and involving him in the latest relief efforts. It was what Ed admired about his lover—his heart and his passion for helping weren't just for show. He really cared.

So, Edward couldn't tell him no, not when Roy was so zealous about giving the voiceless a chance to speak. Edward would sooner lay down his life than to stop Roy from accomplishing his goals. He would be right beside him every step of the way.

A knock at the door pulled Ed out of his stupor, and he groaned as he got up to answer. As soon as the door flung open, the photographer entered followed by the equipment and a plethora of assistants. The directions were concise, the actions executed efficiently. In no time the apartment resembled a movie set more than a simple photo session.

Ed watched the action bemoaning their presence. With Roy in the shower, he was tasked with accommodating the crew. Cringing, he made the effort and asked if anyone wanted anything to eat or drink. He had hoped they would decline and save him the trip but of course, they didn't. Ed made his way into the kitchen and began pulling out the fucking China and placing it on the tray. He grumbled more as he searched for Roy's fancy tea and then put the kettle on the stove. It was hard to be civil when his space was invaded, but it was the least he could do if he wanted to stay in Roy's good graces.

"I'll take over from here, love," Roy whispered in a soothing voice, "why don't you go and play host to our guests?”

Edward exhaled, "Those aren't guests; they are menaces." Roy's soft chuckles followed him as he returned to the living room, his nerves slowly calming. It was unbelievable what Roy could do to him.

Fifteen minutes later, Roy served the tea and biscuits as they conversed about current events. After a moment of refreshment, the photographer indicated that he was ready whenever they were. Edward glared at the pretentious bastard before averting his eyes. He noticed as Roy stood and asked if everyone was finished and wished his lover would ask him to help clear the table. Instead, the insufferable bastard declined any help and nodded toward the living room. Ed had no choice but to follow the photographer.

As soon as Ed stepped into the living room, he was targeted by the team of stylists and makeup artists. A tuft of air escaped his lips as he was pulled into their orbit, applying all manner of powders and concealers as the stylists set about pulling his hair out of the tie and combing through the long tendrils.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to style your hair," one of the girls exclaimed. Edward turned to her and smiled and you would've thought that she'd been electrocuted with as quickly as she staggered backward.

"Solaris thinks you're hot, and she loves all your music," another girl, a makeup artist named Rebecca, interjected.

"Um…thanks, I think." Ed glanced over to Roy entering the room and watched as he sauntered over to them, taking a seat next to him. That smug smile that he so loved was plastered all over his face, and Ed fought the desire to roll his eyes.

"I hope he's not causing any trouble?" Roy's honeyed voice had the desired effect; silence permeated through the room as he held their eyes. It was like watching a master work his craft; no one could resist those fucking bedroom eyes or his flirtatious debonair approach, not even Edward. The girls tittered as Roy engaged them in light chatter, his focus singular. Their eyes met briefly, and Ed smirked.

I know what you're doing…

Roy merely winked back, and Edward swallowed hard. Suddenly, Edward is transported somewhere in the near future, his body pressed against the walls at the mercy of his very capable lover.

Lost in thought, Edward barely noticed as Solaris and Rebecca finished with him and squared their sights on Roy. Ed watched as Roy played the room, his luminous smile and effortless charm making him that much more alluring.

"Ed, I don't think we've been introduced formally. I'm Solf J. Kimblee." The older man wasted no time and gestured toward the rack of designer clothing, "You want to take a look through the rack and see if there's something you like?”

Just as Ed was about to reply, Roy picked something out and tossed it to him. Apparently, it didn't take the stylist long to render Roy into the epitome of sex. Ed just gazed at him before stomping out of the room, his anger percolating. His fury wasn't for Roy; it was that their lives had been interrupted all because of one measly photograph. He would murder Al and Ling slowly for this.

Ed changed quickly into the black jeans and pulled the plain white tee over his head. He then pulled the chunky red cable knit sweater and shook his head. Leave it to Roy to piece together the perfect ensemble on a whim. Barefoot, he tried his hand at sashaying a bit before realizing that he must've looked like a fucking idiot. He straightened up and walked back into the living room, more than ready to get this over with.

Roy entered next after having changed into a pair of light-rinsed jeans with strategically placed cut outs. He topped those sinful jeans with a complimentary white v neck tee and a pull over gray sweater that showed off an exceedingly amount of chest. Ed cleared his throat and cast a covetous glance around the room. Roy's sex appeal was off the charts and judging by the ominous silence; everyone had noticed. That, of course, stoked the flames of desire within Ed, and he bit his lip in anticipation. He wished like hell he could jump his bones but this fucking session…

Kimblee cleared his throat and the tension dissipated. He directed them both to take a seat on the couch facing each other and Ed settled in front of Roy, searching his handsome face before meeting his eyes. It was easy to do this with Roy; love shone in his eyes and the tiny smirk that graced his lips made Ed's heart flutter. His expression encouraged Ed to relax, to look at him as if it were just the two of them in their little bubble.

It works perfectly. The camera flashed. Ed smiled and giggled slightly. Roy listed the ways they would get back at Al and Ling, and Edward couldn't help but give his two cenz. Roy smiled brightly and Ed knew that they had forever in their grasps. It's a bit unnerving to know that he has the privilege to know love and the pleasure to receive it in kind. Lost in the moment, Edward leaned in and kissed Roy, his body inching closer to savor the warmth.

"Keep going!" Kimblee demanded gleefully, "Don't stop!”

Roy obliged-fully. Deepening the kiss, he pulled Ed impossibly closer. Ed ran his tongue over Roy's lips, practically moaning when his lover opened his mouth and allowed him in. Ed could feel himself slipping as they kissed in tandem, the passion burning between them. A logical thought flashed through Ed's mind as he attempted to pull away from Roy. Roy grunted and pulled him to straddle his lap, crushing him against his chest as he plundered his lips. The kiss is urgent, demanding even, and Edward can't think straight. Roy devoured him and Ed was inclined to let him feast to his heart's content.

The room filled with whistles and cat calls as the camera captured the salacious image. Roy pressed his body closer to Ed, infusing him with his delicious essence. Completely ensconced by the taste of Roy, the feel of his skin against his own, Ed relented and gave himself entirely, allowing Roy to transport him into a future alight with only their love to guide them.

All too soon the kiss ended, and Ed gasped for breath and blinked. It took Ed a moment to focus as Kimblee gave out his instructions— something about taking some shots without the sweaters and in different rooms. Ed didn't fucking care. He wanted Roy, his eyes gravitating to the older man's thoroughly bruised lips. The color in his cheeks was the only indication that the fire was lit— all that remained was to act.

Two hours later, the photo shoot wrapped and Kimblee informed Roy and Ed that he'd email the shots he wanted to use for the piece to Ling. Alone in the apartment; Ed plopped down on the sofa with Roy following. Ed exhaled heavily and tucked his legs under him, moving closer to Roy to revel in his warmth.

"I don't know how you do that all day. I'm fucking exhausted." In response, Roy ran his hands through his hair, soothing away any remnants of stress. Under Roy's hands, he could easily fall asleep.

"I've had years of practice," Roy whispered. The peaceful silence washed over, and Ed felt his eyes slide shut. Moments later, Roy nudged him, "Hey, Ling wants us to check his Twitter page.”

Edward rolled over and buried his face against Roy's solid chest, breathing him in. He didn't want to lift a finger, much less check Twitter. "I'll…I will do it later."

“Ed…"

Edward's eyes fluttered as he peered up at Roy. Grimacing slightly, he took the phone from Roy, not surprised to find it already open to his Twitter feed.

Ed stared at the photo of them sitting on the sofa, facing each other lost in their own little world. One of Roy's legs hung casually off of the couch while the other was placed against the cushions. His right arm rested on the top of the sofa while the other circled Ed's waist, keeping Ed between both his legs. Their faces were only inches apart and unlike the photograph from the live event, it's evident in their gaze that true love is their bond.

"We look happy," Roy remarked, serenely. It was true; they did look happy. Ed was grateful for the selfie; he loved that it captured the two of them, with no pretenses and no desire to conform to the norms of society. It was perfect.

Edward grinned widely, "I think we look fucking hot.”

Roy brushed his lips against his and chuckled, "Yeah, we do. Now sleep, love. Later we can see what those adoring fans of yours had to say about their OTP."

Edward shoved Roy playfully as his eyes drift close, the soft thump of Roy's heart lulling him into a pleasurable sleep.

Roy's lips traced the shell of his ear, his voice a mere whisper, "RoyEd forever."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
